Deficient
by Jasu94
Summary: Sam desperatly tries to come up with reasons why Mercedes didn t choose him and in the progress, risks to lose her forever. Is she able to retain him from doing a fatal mistake? Warning for serious self-harm!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **These are my thoughts on what could have happened after Sam left the choir room in „Heart". The events of the rest of the episode are ignored in this and also, Mercedes has not yet broken up with Shane. Sam is living in a Motel instead of Finn and Kurt`s place as stated in "The Spanish Teacher". So it is AU, maybe.

**!Warning:** There is a serious self-harm and bulimia trigger warning! Do not read if it will make you hurt yourself! **!**

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Glee and don`t make any money with this story.

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><p>Boys don`t cry.<p>

Right now, Sam Evans didn`t give a shit. First off, Mercedes interpreting Whitney was just too beautiful to keep a dry eye and secondly, she was breaking his heart right now. Again.

After Cedes finished belting out the last note, Sam stood and left. Nobody seemed to neither care nor try to follow him.

He walked to the motel through the chilly February-weather what kind of helped him to cool down himself. On the other hand it was very uncomfortable to feel the tears freeze on his skin. Still, he was happy not having to drive a car in his current condition, with blurry vision and shaky hands.

Sam barely managed to fumble the key out of his pocket because his fingers didn`t seem to properly respond to his mind. Again, he was thankful his parents let him live alone. Once inside, he tossed his bag away and went straight to the bathroom.

"You will always love me. Yet you didn`t chose me, you chose him… What is it that I don`t have, but he can give you? What?" he shouted at his image in the mirror. Opening the cabinet, he found his razor and the bag of refill-blades.

Although knowing that this was no solution and that he really shouldn`t do this, he grabbed whatever blade looked like the sharpest and was going to close the cabinet again when his glance fell on the bottle of self-tanning lotion. Angry, he slammed the door shut. He wrenched his shirt over his head and the jeans of his legs, not caring if he ripped them or hurt himself.

Sam looked down at his torso. Skin was stretching over strong muscles. White skin. He wasn`t pale, but only as brown as a boy born and raised in the four sun-hours-a-day states Tennessee and Kentucky could get. Sam thought at the endless hours of self-tanning, using three times the dose that was recommended.

"That didn`t work out so well, did it, Evans?" he asked his reflection, spotting the red blotches on his chest. When he saw them the day after he had tried tanning for the first time, he figured it was an allergy, which still didn`t stop him from doing the process again the next day. Now, a week later, he wasn`t any browner – but his skin was covered with red marks from the heavy allergic reaction.

"Am I not dark enough for you, Mercedes?" Sam shouted in the mirror which naturally didn`t answer him. He let the blade hover close to the skin on his left arm, thinking a minute. _No, the risk of discovery is too high._ He moved to his torso, from time to time scratching the skin lightly with the sharp metal. On his abs, he stopped. _You work out in the gym shirtless way too often… Can`t risk it._ He eventually came to a stop again when he had reached his upper legs. _No-one will see in the gym, no-one will see it in the summer, no-one will ever notice._ He lowered the blade and made a straight cut from left to right over his leg, only a hand`s width under the end of his boxers.

Tears shoot to his eyes; he drew in breath sharply at the pain. It hurt a lot, but his heart hurt more right now. As he curiously watched the blood collect at both ends of the cut and eventually run down the sides of his legs in small drops, leaving a bright red trail on his white skin, Sam decided he needed more.

"Did you choose him because I am so dyslexic I can`t even spell the word, Mercedes?" Another cut, not even a quarter of an inch below the first one. Sam was not able to keep the slash straight this time, because the pain was coming faster and his hand was trembling, so the right-side end was crooked.

He had tried to get his dyslexia under control, tried every training method known to man, but none had helped. Sam didn`t have the money for private lessons, but he wanted to get some so badly. He had thought about stealing in the super market to save money, but had then decided to rather not eat anything at all.

Two days after, he had rushed into the shop right after school, bought whatever he could grab, practically ran home and devoured everything, parts of it raw, frozen or half-cooked. Maybe Cedes would like him better if he would gain a couple of pounds? Obviously she liked curvy man. Sam forced himself to eat unhealthy things for a week; he shoved candy, soda, fat meals and vegetable-free stuff into himself. Usually, at the most ten minutes later, he would find himself in the bathroom, hugging the toilet and shoving a finger down his throat. He remembered his perfect body and how much effort it was to get this appearance and just couldn`t bring himself to look like a dumpling.

"Am I too skinny for you, Mercedes?" he shouted weakly and cut a third line into his thigh. His hands were too shaky to make it a straight line; it was more of a wavy one. He watched the red drop of blood flow down his leg with puffy eyes, but wasn`t even aware of the ticklish feeling if left. As the drop grew closer to the floor, if encircled his ankle and then sunk into the black carpet, making a red stain there.

_Black and red._ Another thought occurred to Sam.

"Do you like him more because I don`t have a letter jacket, Mercedes?" He had tried on that, he really had. It wasn`t his fault that the only available team was also probably the least cool one. He cut another time, deeper now and the pain took over him. His eyes, which had already dried out in the meantime, were now flooding again and the tears streamed down his cheeks. He wiped over his face, not thinking about which hand he used and therefore smearing blood in his face. When his fingers met his mouth, he paused for a second and then turned his eyes to the mirror. For the first time in his life, he watched his mouth closely.

"Is my mouth too big for you, Mercedes?" he asked and felt a sting of disgust and rage when he said "too" or "is" or "you" or "…ce…": His mouth really is huge. Knowing if he would go through with the idea that had just come to his mind, this would be taken to a whole new level, he watched himself direct the blade to the left corner of his lip and settling it on the soft skin. He tasted the iron of his own blood and felt the cold of the metal, before he applied pressure and the razor sunk into his lip like a knife does into butter.

There was pain, a lot of pain. Sam screamed and his legs couldn`t handle it anymore. He sunk to the floor, leaving blood stains on the sink. He curled up in a ball, trying to make to sharp pain in his mouth go away and regretting what he had done. Sam started crying again and as the tears fell onto the open skin of his thigh, he hissed sharply, needing pain he could control to get his mind off the other pain.

"Did you choose him because I like Avatar and cartoons, Mercedes?"

Another cut in the thigh.

"Am I too much of a dork for you, Mercedes?"

Cut.

"Is he better than me because I like to imitate people, Mercedes?"

Cut.

Seven lines, the first three shallow and steady, the last four deep und crooked adorned his upper leg and one was in his lip. The high amount of lost blood and the thrown-up food of the last week paid their tribute – combined with the allergic reaction. Sam`s body wasn`t playing along anymore.

"I don`t care if you choose him, Cedes, he is better than me anyway. But you should know that _I _will always love _you_." With that, he fainted.

"Sam? Sam, are you home?"

Through the bathroom door, a figure was visible. Lying on the floor, blonde hair, the carpet stained red.

"Sam!"

_Please don`t let this be happening. _

_Please don`t let him be dead. _


	2. Chapter 2

**!Warning:** There is talking about self-harm and therefore a trigger warning! Do not read if it will make you hurt yourself! **!**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee and don`t make any money with this story.

**AN: **Sorry for the long update break – I had finals to think about. I have, however, decided that there will be a third part to this. Just be patient, okay? Also, I don`t know the exact timeline from the episode, but for this, Mercedes has sung "I will always love you" on Friday afternoon, now they talk in the evening and Sugar`s party is on Saturday.

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><p><em>Please don`t let him be dead!<em>

Mercedes rushed to Sam`s side, hoping for the best although knowing she had to expect the worst.

Seeing that the boy was unconscious and not reacting to her calls, she opened the tap, filled her cupped hand with water and splashed it in his face. Sam opened his eyes, looking rather shocked and for a moment confused about his whereabouts.

"Sam?" Mercedes whispered.

"Hi there." he smiled weakly. "Am I dead?" The slight hope in his voice made Mercedes worry. She looked down on him; saw the deep wounds in his thigh, the blood smeared over face, chin, chest and legs, the razor blade a few inches from his fingers. And she knew that he had wanted to be dead. _Stay calm. It is not going to help when you freak out on him._

"What? No. Why?"

He sat up, grouched and Mercedes help him to half sit, half lay against the wall of the shower.

"You look like an angel – I must be in heaven. Are you an angel?"

For a moment, Mercedes was concerned about Sam`s sanity. Then again, she did not yet know what caused his fit of self-harm. But she had a very strong assumption.

"No, Sam… You are not in heaven. And I am no angel." Mercedes blushed at this thought. _I sure am no angel causing you to do this to yourself._

"Sam. Do you remember what you… what has happened to you?"

To Mercedes' surprise, the boy began to cry.

"What are you even doing her? I don`t deserve you. Go and have a nice live with your boyfriend and let me… let me die here!"

Mercedes gulped and felt tears spring to her eyes. She told herself to keep calm and stay in control of the situation.

"Listen, Sam. For now, let's just pretend we didn`t go through all of this. Let`s just act like we don`t have any problems and I am just here to help you. Let`s get you cleaned up and put this place back in order and then…"

"I am hungry." Sam interrupted and immediately his hand jerked to the blade to punish himself for not being able to control his weak desires. Mercedes saw his attempted movement and caught his hand midway.

"Don`t do that. Don`t even think about it!" She took the metal out of his hand (_It is so cold! And there is blood all over it!_) and threw it in the trash. Catching his glaze up to the cabinet, she opened the doors and got the razor and it`s refill blades, the nail- and hair scissors and the nail file out of it.

"Listen. I am going to go to the kitchen and get some food ready. In the meanwhile, you will wash the blood off and tell me where to find some new clothes for you. Then I will help you to bandage all the… cuts. And then you can eat something and we can talk."

Sam said nothing; he just looked at her through his sad, tear-filled eyes.

"Okay?"

The boy nodded and Mercedes walked out, leaving him in his privacy, taking all the sharp objects with her. Once in the kitchen area, she leaned on the counter and took a deep breath.

_What have I done?_

For maybe another minute she stood and thought.

"Okay. Pull yourself together, damn it."

She went and opened the fridge, finding it empty but a boxed salad, two tomatoes and a half-empty six-pack of protein shakes.  
>"Woh. Do you ever eat?" she asked into the silence surrounding her. She searched the whole kitchen, but besides a not yet opened bag of Doritos, there was nothing eatable in the room.<p>

"Sam?" she called out. "What is your favorite pizza topping?"

The boy walked out the bathroom, still in his boxers, the dried blood washed off and a bundle of toilet paper pressed against his thigh.

"Dunno. Hawaii, I guess." he said weakly. "Listen, Cedes, I can`t afford a pizza…"  
>"Don`t worry about it. You need to eat something. And I will pay. Those 10 bucks won`t hurt me." She got out her cell phone while Sam mumbled his thanks.<br>"Coke?" she interrupted his thoughts.

"Only Diet, please." Mercedes shook her head, but still ordered what he had wished. After she had passed the address to the delivery service, she hushed Sam back to the bathroom.

"There must be a first-aid-kit around here somewhere."

After she had gently fixed all the cuts in Sam`s leg and even tried to treat his lip, they went back to the main room.

"Where do you keep your clothes?" Mercedes asked, almost unable to bear the view of the shivering boy. He nodded in the direction of a big suitcase standing next to the bed. She went over and found it almost empty. In the corner, a crammed trash bag was standing, a sharpie mark on it saying "Lawndre".

Mercedes looked through the thin layer of clothes covering the bottom of the suitcase and found a plain black v-neck shirt that looked pretty tight (it has probably been from Kurt). From the very top of the trash bag, she picked up a pair of sweat pants that had mud stains on the hem.

She handed the clothes to Sam, who had taken a seat on the bed, and then went to answer the door and get the pizzas. When Mercedes returned, Sam was clothed and hungrily staring at the boxes in her hands.

They ate in silence, both completely overwhelmed with the situation and suffering from lack of words. It took a while for the two of them to finish their meal, as Sam had to eat slowly so that his lip wouldn`t open again and Mercedes eating extra slow to not make him feel uncomfortable.

As the pizzas slowly began to reach their limits, both began dabbing around their mouths with the napkins, picking every crumb of the table, clearing their bottles to the last drop – still without saying a word or looking at the other one. Both were afraid to be the one starting the conversation they both know needed to be held.

After Sam had brought his Coke to his mouth for the sixth time although there was not a molecule of liquid in it anymore, Mercedes caught his hand and took the bottle out of it. She left her hand in his as she laid them on the table.

"Sam, there is no way around it. We gotta talk this through." The boy winced and a single tear escaped his eye. Mercedes felt so sorry, but she knew this needed to be done.

"Why were you trying to…" she took a deep breath, "…to kill yourself?"

"It ain`t easy being me, Cedes." Sam answered, his voice weak.  
>"There is so much going on. School is pretty hard for a dyslexic; also, I have had barely any time to study. I need money so desperately – but people in the halls give you strange looks when they know you were a… stripper. Being slushied is a very uncomfortable thing, especially if you have no money to clean the clothes. Living away from your family is no piece of cake, either. And then… there is you."<p>

"Then there is me." Mercedes echoed, for a moment speechless about everything that must have gone through Sam`s mind in the past weeks. Suddenly, her normal Glee-drama seemed tiny.

"I am really sor…" Sam`s finger closed her lips. He shook his head.  
>"I was the one who moved away. I was the one who hardly spent any time with you over the summer. As far as I recall, I was the one not wanting a long-distance relationship, but rather break up with you. And, after all, I am the one who is not good enough for you." he said, the last sentence slipping out without him wanting to say it. Sam started crying once he realized his soul lay bare.<p>

And Mercedes picked it up.

"Sam. You moved because your dad had finally found a new job. We spent so little time together because you were out working to raise money for your family. You didn`t want a long-distance relationship because you didn`t want to hurt me. And how in the world do you get the idea that you are not good enough for me?" By now, Mercedes was bawling along with Sam, their hands clenched together on the table in front of them, between napkins and empty pizza boxes.

"Is that why… why you cut? Sam, did you cut because you thought you weren`t good enough for me?"

Sam let out a loud sob and Mercedes had her answer. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, feeling Sam`s hands tremble in her own.

"Why?" she whispered. "How could you ever…?"

"I am white." Sam said, swallowing hard and still crying. Mercedes couldn`t believe her ears.  
>"And you think that is a problem for me?"<br>"You chose Shane over me. He is black, I am not."  
>"Sam, your skin color does not matter at all. I would date you if you were… purple." Sam let out a tear soaked snicker and nodded.<p>

"But… I am dyslexic."

"And I like that. It just means that you are not perfect." Mercedes explained, but Sam was not sure yet.

"It makes my grades low. I am so bad at school."

"That is not your fault. Besides, I would be more than happy to help you." Sam nodded again, staring at a stain on the table.

"Also… I am too skinny… for your… preferences." Mercedes looked up, shock in her eyes.

"Are you kidding? I love your looks. Of all the guys in Glee you are the most exercised. Your abs are fantastic."

"But Shane… is… plump."

"That does not mean it is the reason I like him, okay?"

"Then why do you like him?" Mercedes sighed, knowing this was probably going to be the hardest part of the conversation.

"He is smart and funny and… and…" she stopped. Nothing more came to her mind and she realized Shane had been just her rebound.

Sam had noticed her hesitation as well, but did not want to make her feel uncomfortable. That was between Shane and her, now they needed to settle what was between them. And the stinging pain in his thigh reminded him that there were at least four more reasons to not deserve Mercedes Jones. He cleared his throat.

"I don`t have a letter jacket anymore."  
>"And you thought this is a reason for me to not like you?" Sam shrugged, tears springing to his eyes again.<p>

"You dated Puck, you dated Shane, and you dated me when I had one. So… I thought not having one would make me undeserving for you." Mercedes was speechless.

"I like athletes, yes. But I do not dislike people who don`t have a letter jacket. I had a crush on Kurt once." Sam nodded, feeling warmth returning to his heart. The way Mercedes turned down his arguments one after one made him feel stupid for ever letting that blade touch his leg.

"I don`t deserve you because I like Avatar and cartoons and because I am a dork sometimes." he continued to explain.  
>"But that is what makes you… you. I know nobody else who is able to speak this Na'vi and being dedicated to a movie is nothing bad. What do you think Rach, Kurt and I do at our sleepovers? Watch "<em>Rent<em>", "_Hairspray_" or Disney cartoons. Every single time, although we know them by heart by now." Sam wanted to say something, but Mercedes interrupted him.  
>"And about the dork thing… It is cute sometimes, you know? Besides that, Finn is an even greater dork." She smiled at him. "Now, is there any other reason you think explains why you don`t deserve me?"<p>

"I do imitations of people."  
>"And that is a talent, not a sin. Sam, you are allowed to have fun like everyone else!" He began sobbing again. All his reasons were invalid. Mercedes brushed over his hands with her thumbs.<p>

"I like you for what you are, Sam."

"But… I am poor. I was a stripper. I am the worst kid in my class. I can`t even read. I am… am so deficient."

Mercedes shook her head in disbelieve.  
>"Don`t you get it? You are amazingly brave for doing everything to help your family. You were so strong caring about them first and then about yourself. You may not be able to read, but you taught me how to improve my dancing. You taught me how to play guitar and you are an amazing singer. You are smart enough to change schools three times in one year, be dyslexic, have Glee, two jobs and still not fail a single class. And most importantly, Sam: you are beautiful."<p>

He looked up to her from his tear-filled green eyes and sniffed.  
>"Even with this?" he asked, pointing to his mouth.<p>

"_This_ is a part of you. With _this_ you are able to sing like an angle, to give good advice to Rory and to kiss. I have always liked kissing your lips, Sam." That broke every bit of control that was left in Sam.

He stood up and pulled the surprised Mercedes into his arms. They stood for a while, hugging each other deeply and crying on each other's shoulders.

"You gonna go to Sugar`s party tomorrow?" Mercedes whispered in the silence.  
>"Maybe." He pulled out of the hug and looked at her.<p>

"Come on. It is going to be great fun. When was the last time you were out with the Glee club?" Sam smiled, remembering Rachel`s house party a year ago.

Finally, Sam nodded and Mercedes smiled.

"I gotta go now. It is pretty late already. Listen, Sam…" she said as she collected her stuff and walked to the door.  
>"…here is my number. Cell and home. Call me whenever you feel the need to cut again, okay? I could not get tired of reasons to tell you why you are beautiful. Also," they had approached the doorstep, "if you promise to think better of yourself and not harm your perfect body again, I would like to take you to Sugar`s party." Sam crocked an eyebrow and Mercedes felt the need to clarify:<p>

"As my date."

"But… You are with Shane."

"Am I?" she said, stunning both of them with the response. She lent up, kissed him on the cheek and turned around to her car.  
>"See you tomorrow at 7." she called over her shoulder and left a completely stunned Sam in the doorway.<p> 


End file.
